Meeting the Past
by Little Bit1
Summary: A story congruent with "In with the New" but not a sequel. Spot has a sister. Guess who. It's finished, and the latest chapter was taken out, but there's a sequel coming that involves what some of you may have already read.
1.

*Author's Notes*  
  
1. This is a story congruent with "In with the New," but it's not a sequel, so if you   
decide to read it, you shouldn't be too lost if you haven't read the other.  
2. I had to change one little detail regarding Emily's age. In "In with the New"  
she was 17 and Jack was 18, making them one year apart. I changed it to be that   
she was 16 and Jack 18, and I'm assuming Jack and Spot are the same age.  
3. I promise this will get more interesting, the first chapter is just setting up  
for everything else.  
4. None of these character's are mine except Emily/Little Bit, and later on,   
Kane. All of the others belong to whoever Disney has decided owns them.  
  
  
I guess it all started when I was born. My mother and father were   
poor, so they really couldn't take care of me. I don't blame them for putting   
me in the orphanage. And it's not like they didn't visit, cause they did--for a   
while. Then things changed. My mother got pregnant again, two years later.   
  
It's funny, she was almost ready to take me back home, well that's what   
they tell me anyway. I was only two. I remember she started to get a little bit  
rounder, if you can believe that. I can actually remember that far back. Any-  
way, she had the kid a few months later. I was only two. She couldn't take  
me back now, cause she had another kid to support. My father died right before   
my sister was born--fever. He was always getting sick.  
  
So my mom brought Emily (that's the kid's name) to visit for a while,   
until I was about five. Then she stopped coming. I found out from one of the 'nicer'   
nuns that Emily was asking about me too much for my mother's liking. My mother  
thought I'd grow up to be a criminal. I don't really know why, I only stole   
an extra peice of bread for supper once. Well she didn't want my sister to have  
that kind of brother around her.  
  
Well, I knew where they lived, so I use to walk by the house every once   
and a while, to see how Emily was doing. She was having the time of her life.   
She had completely forgotten about me by her fourth birthday. I didn't mind,   
since I liked to see her happy.  
  
I ran away from the orphanage when I was ten. This real jerk of a guy,   
Jack, he had just run away too, from the refuge. No one wants to be at the   
Refuge, and no one wants to be at the orphanage, so we stuck together, and   
watched each other's backs.  
  
Well, when I was eleven, a year after my escape, I was walking down   
in Central Park, selling papes (this was before my glorious Brooklyn days).   
I ran into her. No, I mean I actually ran into her, as in our shoulders   
collided and we fell.   
  
I helped her up. She smiled that smile, and brushed back her corn-  
colored hair. She was definately my mother's daughter. 


	2. 

*Author's Note*  
One more thing...you'll notice that it's from Spot's POV, but there's no accent  
this is b/c writing a whole story in an accent would be too hard...sorry.  
  
  
Chapter 2:  
  
"Excuse me." She said and reached down to pick up a book. I leaned   
over to see what she had been reading when we collided. It was something by   
this guy named Dickens. Never heard of him.  
  
"Ya need any help deah?" I asked, praying she would.  
  
"No. I'm fine thanks." She said, and looked up at me. Her eyes,   
so blue and clear, just stared for a moment. "Do I know you?" She finally   
asked.  
  
"Uh, no. Don't think I evah seen ya befoah."  
  
"You look so familiar." You ever notice how familiar sure sounds a   
lot like family?  
  
"Well, I been sellin' heah foah awhile. Ya prolly just seen me   
around." I told her. Those eyes, like the color of heaven, they just looked   
ahead. I felt like she was staring into my soul, like she could see my secret   
I was keeping from her.  
  
"Listen, I was just headed back to my apartment. Would you like to   
come up for tea? I'm sure my ma wouldn't mind." Thank you. That's what I   
wanted to hear.  
  
"Ya look like ya nine yeahs old. Ya ma wouldn't mind a strangah   
comin' inta yoah house fah no reason?"  
  
"She's a nice lady; she won't bite. Aren't you thirsty?" She asked.  
  
"Yeah. Why not?" So we walked back to her house, and on the way I   
sold my last papes for the evening. It was about five o'clock. As we turned   
on to her street though, I started to get this gnawing feeling. What if my   
mother remembered me, and told me to leave this kid alone. Or worse, what if   
she didn't remember at all. "Uh, Emily, maybe I should get back ta da lodgin'   
house. Err...the boys, they'se might be getting' worried and awll."  
  
"Oh, come on, just a-wait a second. How'd you know my name?"  
  
"Um...you told me."  
  
"No I didn't." Then I saw a light bulb click in her head. "If you   
follow me home, and have one cup of tea with me and my mother, I won't ask   
you how you knew my name." She was smart for a little kid.  
  
"Well, I guess I ain't got a choice den." I told her. She looked   
at me questioning for a second, as if she were about to ask something, but   
she gave up and started walking instead.  
  
We walked into the building, and to the door on the right. She lived   
on the first floor. As I walked in, I felt a familiar presence. I glanced   
to my left, and at the stove there was a lady hunched over, making what smelled   
like a home-cooked meal.  
  
"Ma, I'm home. Whatcha cookin'?" My kid sister asked my abandoner. The mother turned around, and all the sudden, I felt like I was naked in front of all of Manhattan.  
  
"What are you doing here?" She asked, glaring at   



	3. 

Thanks to Kora for the new title.  
  
  
Chapter 3:  
  
"Emily, why did you bring this boy here?" My mother asked.  
  
"Oh, I just ran into him in Central Park. I thought I'd bring him up   
for some tea, Ma. What wring with that?" Emily answered her.  
  
"Well, I don't like you bringing strangers into this house unannounced.   
Especially street-er, boys in his profession." So she didn't remember me.   
But she kept looking at me. I caught a glimpse of that same questioning face   
I saw in my sister.  
  
"I'm sawry lady. I'll leave." I started for the door when I heard   
her say:  
  
"No, no. Excuse my poor manners. Please, sit down. Join us. I was   
just making Emily something to eat before I leave for work." She gave me a   
weak smile and pulled out a chair from their dinner table. I sat.  
  
"Thanks ma'am." You ever notice how ma'am sounds a lot like mom?   
  
"Mama, this is-oh I'm sorry. I didn't even ask you for your name."  
  
"Oh, I'm-Um, Spot. Spot Conlon. And yoah Emily."  
  
"Yes. Yes I am." She threw me a quick grin and turned to help her   
mother.  
  
"I'm Clara Brown." My mother told me. No, you're mama, I thought to   
myself, but I didn't say anything. I just looked down at the wooden table top   
in front of me, with a very concentrated look.  
  
We had beef soup and some homemade bread. It was the best food that   
had ever graced my tongue. The orphanage food was almost always gruel, except   
Christmas, when they gave us a miniscule slab of turkey.   
  
When we finished dinner I asked if I could help clean up, but I was   
told I was a guest, and helping was not allowed. I excused myself to the   
washroom, which was next to Clara's bedroom. I couldn't help but peek inside.   
I saw a book with a lock on the side of her bed. I skimmed the apartment to   
make sure the family was busy, and walked into the chamber. Picking up the   
book, I noticed the lock was easy to pick, so I grabbed a pin from her dresser   
and did what I had learned so many years before.   
  
The lock opened without a sound, and I peered inside. There was one photo-  
graph. One tattered old snapshot from one of the first cameras ever made.   
There I was, with my mother and father. We were so happy in the picture. I   
can't imagine how they could afford to take such a photograph, but the thought   
didn't stay in my head for very long. There was someone at the door.  
  
"What on earth are you doing in here?" I heard a loud voice cry. I   
spun around to see my mother standing in the doorway. "Well, answer me, boy."   
She said, with such an accusing tone, that made me want to run up and yell   
"What am I s'pose to do?! Ya left me!!" But I didn't I just walked past her   
and out of the apartment.  
  
The second the door slammed shut I was running down the hall to the   
exit of the apartment building. I ran down the streets of Manhattan back to   
Central Park. I ran straight to the place I was standing before the night's   
events unraveled into what had just happened. I ran straight into Jack.  
  
"Hey Spot, who's chasin' ya?" He asked.  
  
"No one. Move. I'm going back ta da lodgin' house. See ya layder."   
I told him.  
  
"Ya just ran me down like dat, and youse gonna tell me nuttin's wrong?   
Spot, I might not be as smawt as somma da guys, but I knows when sumthin's   
wrong." What a guy huh?  
  
"I ain't gonna talk about it, so get outta my way." I started to walk   
past him.  
  
"Wait!" Some one yelled. But it wasn't Jack. It wasn't any guy.   
It wasn't anyone my age even. I stood right where I was, not turning around,   
not opening my eyes. I just stood there. She had followed me.  
  
"Spot, you wanna tell me who did broad is?" Jack inquired. I didn't   
answer him.  
  
"Child, would you leave your friend and I alone for just a moment. I   
promise I won't hurt him. You can stand over by that tree and wait if you'd   
like." She told him.  
  
"Look lady, I don't know what yoah deal is, but-"  
  
"Just do it, Jack." I said to him. He marched over there with a   
scowl on his face. I grinned inwardly to myself; cowboy had actually listened   
to me. "Whaddya want?" I asked her.  
  
"Benny?" No one had called me that in a long time. I didn't let them.   
As soon as I knew she wasn't coming back I changed my name. Maybe not legally,   
but no one called me Benny anymore.  
  
"You got the wrong guy, lady." I told her in a cold, monotone voice.  
  
"Tell me, why were you in my room. Why did you look at that picture?"  
  
"I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at da time."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"Dat's a shame."   
  
"Benny, it is you, isn't it? Don't lie to your mother." I turned to   
see if Jack heard what she had just said, but he was too busy trying to climb   
the tree.  
  
"You ain't my muddah. My muddah died along time ago."  
  
"Really?" She asked, unconvinced. "When?"  
  
"When I was five." We just stood there glaring at each other for a   
few minutes. Then Jack fell out of the tree. It would have been funny, if   
it weren't for the situation I was in. I ran to help him. He wasn't hurt,   
but he said he was going back to the lodging house, and he'd meet up with me   
later-and that he'd get to the bottom of this. Poor bum.  
  
As soon as Jack was out of site I said:  
  
"What's yoah problem, lady? I ain't hoid from you in six yeahs. It   
ain't my fawlt yoah new kid can't walk. I ain't meant to meet huh ouwa   
nuthin'."  
  
"Ben, you don't know how hard it's been for me these past few years."  
  
"Foist, don't cawll me dat. Second, where da hell do you get off--?"  
  
"Benny, don't use such language, please."  
  
"I said don't cawll me dat."  
  
"I'm your mother and it's the name I gave you." She said with a smirk. She thought she was getting off easy, like we meet and all's forgiven. She had another thing coming.  
  
"How many times I gotta tell ya? You ain't me muddah."  
  
"That hurts, son."   
  
"You left me. Ya took my on'y family away from me. I lived in dat   
owaphinage foah awll dose yeahs, hopin'-no, prayin'-dat you'd come back.   
But you didn't. And ya took my sistah with ya."  
  
"I'm sorry. I had nothing else to do."  
  
"How? I'm ya son."   



	4. 

*Author's notes*  
1. Sorry it's short, and no this isn't the last chapter.  
2. Simper means to smile stupidly, just so you know.  
  
  
Chapter 4:  
  
We talked for a while, not all night or anything. She invited me to   
visit anytime I want. I don't know why she changed her mind. I think it had   
something to do with just seeing me again. She said she didn't want Emily to   
know anything though; too bad for her.  
  
I walked into the apartment a week later. I was going to take Emily   
out to lunch at Tibby's. I found her in her in Clara's bedroom.  
  
"Whatcha doin' kid?" I asked as I walked through the frame.  
  
"This is you isn't it?" She demanded, pointing to the picture I found   
only seven days earlier. "It looks like you."  
  
"What makes ya say sumthin' like dat, huh? A'cowse dat ain't me."  
  
"Please, don't lie to me." She pleaded. "My ma's been looking at   
this picture every night, crying. I know she's not crying because of my   
father. She hasn't cried in years. It's you."  
  
"I-I promised I wouldn't say nuthin'. So I ain't sayin' nuthin'."   
She just looked at me with those piercing eyes. "Awrigh', awrigh'. Yeah, it's   
me."  
  
"Why? Why didn't anyone tell me? I knew you looked familiar. You   
said you didn't know me. You lied."  
  
"I didn't know ya. I haven't known ya in yeahs."  
  
"Spot, you're my brother?"  
  
"Yeah." I said, with a smile. We didn't have any real gushy moment.   
She just said:  
  
"Okay, let's go eat then." So we did. We walked into Tibby's and all   
the boys just stared at us.  
  
"You gotta knew goil, Spot?" I heard Mush, who was about ten, ask.  
  
"Nah, dis ain't my goil." I said. Jack ran up to me and pulled the   
two of us aside.  
  
"If dis ain't yoah goil, den what is she?" He asked. I looked at   
him, then back at her. She kind of smiled a sad smile, like she wanted our   
secret to stay secret, but she knew it couldn't happen.  
  
"She's my sistah, but don't tell nobody." I told him. He understood.   
He turned and simpered at her. I wonder-nah.  
  
"You got a sistah, Spot? Why ain't you told no body?"   
  
"Listen, Cowboy, it's my own business, so butt out." Then I grinned.   
"She does look like me, doh, don't she?"   
  
"A little bit, yeah."  
  
  
  
  
  
**As you can see I've taken down chapter five. So...The End. But worry not, for  
there is a sequel in the works.**  
  



End file.
